


Pent-Up Magic

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Porn, Seduction, Sex, Smut, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:57:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9129007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hawke has been experiencing a mage ailment due to too much magic electricity that's been pent-up in her system. She visits a wise old medicine woman, who tells her there's only one fast cure: Sex, and preferably with a male healer mage who can balance out her energy.Hawke knows of only candidate who fits this bill. She's never been intimate with him, but it's obvious they like each other, so she figures now is a good time to invite him over.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Spaceconveyor, who beta-read and made some edits.

Hawke's hands were slick with sweat as she added more logs to the fireplace. The heat from the fire caused a sudden burst of flame to erupt, not from the logs, but from her fingers. She cursed and blew the fire out. Over the past several weeks, she'd been dealing with a stressful excess of her magic- uncontrollable elemental spells, for instance, and casting accidental force spells- that brimmed from her system like a pot overflowing with too much boiling water.

At least, the strange old healer woman in Darktown had told her that the problem is an excess of magic. Hawke had sought her out last week, because Anders had been gone on a trip and Hawke wasn't sure who else she could turn to for help. Hawke's ailment hadn't caused her any serious problems, or run-ins with Templars, but she knew if she didn't get it under control soon then it would be only a matter of time before something happened.

Hawke thought again of the woman's advice for a cure, and more sweat broke out along the nape of her neck. She had already invited Anders over, but how in the Maker's name was she supposed to explain the situation to him?

##

Thinking back to four days prior, Hawke had stood in the old woman's hut, waiting to hear an explanation for the electricity that ebbed needlessly through her fingers.

"To put it simply, child, your system has been overwhelmed." The crone's voice was clinical and kind…but a hint of something else, some tension, lay under the surface.

Hawke bristled slightly at being called a child, but she brushed it aside. She just needed the solution, and fast. "What do you mean?"

Overwhelmed was right, Hawke had had several major excursions back-to-back, and had used more magic than she was used to in such a short amount of time. It made sense that her nerves could be fried.

The crone confirmed Hawke's thoughts. "Exactly dear, normally it's a long process to bleed the excess magic. If you were averse to the shortcut cure, you'd have to avoid magic altogether for at least a month, while your system gradually returns to its normal state."

Hawke balked. "A month, no way! I have shit-I mean, sorry, work- to do, and I can't afford to not use my magic. How else am I supposed to deal with slave-trader scum and sadistic Templars?"

The crone smiled slowly. "There is only one known cure. It involves a...shall we say...`mass release’ of all the pent-up magic, to get it out of your system at once."

"Okaaaay." Hawke said hesitantly, wondering why the older woman couldn't just get to the point. "Yeah, great, mass release of magic. Let's just do that. Can we do it now?"

The woman’s smile became sly. "It's a process you'll want to do on your own, if you can. You see...the mass release involves what is referred to as the Great Rite. You'll need another mage- a male- to balance out your female earth energy, and preferably one who's a strong healer himself."

"Wait a second," Hawke blinked, feeling her face turn red as she glanced around the hut, anywhere to avoid eye contact. “You're telling me I have to have sex with a male mage healer?" Saying the words made her blush even harder, at the fact that she already knew whose help she would need.

"To put it plainly, child, yes," The old woman calmly crossed the room and tended to some potions brewing in her cauldron, "and not just ordinary lovemaking. You'll need to both exert your magical energies as much as possible. Let the elements of fire and ice flow from your fingertips. Use your force spells to throw each other across the room. Levitate into the air. Place the bonds of magic onto each other. Use your excess magic to draw pleasure and pain while you're entwined with your lover, until every last bit of the burdensome energy is spent and you collapse exhausted."

Hawke just stared, at a loss for words. Then she started to laugh, until she had tears in her eyes. She fumbled in her coin purse, then handed the old crone far more than she was owed. Hawke also tried to get the blush off her face before awkwardly leaving the room.

##

Hawke mentally shook herself back to the present, where she stood in front of the fireplace, and admired the fierce flames that now leaped inside. Her fingers still burned, and she felt the familiar hum of too much electricity running through her veins. Her skin felt hot, and her breasts were sore and heavy.

"Fuck." She spoke to no one but the empty room. Her mother and brother had gone on a week-long trip, and she had told the servants to take a vacation night to do whatever the hell they wanted, but not set foot in the house until tomorrow night. 

Anders was due to arrive in one hour. Being her usual awkward self, Hawke had not exactly been clear about the purpose of his visit. Yesterday, when he'd returned from his trip, she had stopped by his clinic to issue the invitation. She had stammered through some idiotic rambling about "problems with her magic" and "needing the advice of a fellow healer", and Anders had been perfectly agreeable in his offer to help. Maker, he probably just thought he would be helping repair her staff or concoct a potion for an injury kit. Hawke bit her lip. How could she have set up such an uncomfortable situation for them both? What if he showed up and was offended that she hadn't been more forthcoming? What if he thought she was trying to manipulate him, or what if he was angry? 

Hawke shook her head. She had little time to get ready, so there was no point in wasting it.

Since she had the mansion to herself for the night, she had decided to prepare the living room as the place to perform this so-called "Great Rite." Yesterday she had gotten the servants to take down the chandelier for safekeeping. She used some of her excess magic to cast orbs of dim light, like a string of tiny stars, across the room to set a romantic ambiance. She dragged her plush red sofa to the middle of the room, adjusted it to make it lay flat like a bed, and draped it with the luxurious crimson sheets she had carried down from her room. Next to the make-shift bed, there was a small table, and she laid snacks across its surface: gold goblets of wine, a plate of berries and fruit, and slices of fine cheese. 

What else could she do to prepare? Hawke surveyed the room and spotted a vase of roses that Orana had picked. She plucked one of the flowers out of the vase, to spread its petals across the room. The petals adorned the bed and the floor around the bed in a beautiful red circle. Oh, candles! She placed as many candles as she could in the room, and lit them all with the fire magic that ebbed from her fingers. When she stood back to admire her work, she was proud. She had transformed her living room into a haven of romantic pleasure.

She realized she was cold, and that she was shaking again. But she had no time to be nervous, or at least no time to waste agonizing even further about it. It was too late to turn back now because Anders would be there very soon. 

She quickly bathed herself, thoroughly scrubbing every inch of her flesh until it was smooth and clean. Her frame was naturally trim and lean, but the soaps she had used gave her a silky softness that contrasted with her usual roughness. She rubbed relaxing oils into her skin, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair until it shone. Then she put on her favorite robe. It was red and knee-length, and tied closed by a sash in the middle. The robe was modest enough to cover her properly without making her look like a lady of the Blooming Rose, but one hard yank to the sash would make it fall to the floor at her feet. Lastly, she painted the trademark slash of war paint across her nose.

Hawke walked back out into the living room, heart pounding. Anders was due to arrive in just a few minutes now. Surely he would notice how different her place looked? What if he thought she was luring him into a trap? What if she WAS doing precisely that- perhaps she was nothing more than a no-good apostate after all, and he would hate her and what she tried to do.

Hawke closed her eyes and shook her head. She thought about the ways Anders had looked at her. They had never been intimate, Maker, they'd never even kissed before or spoken one word about their feelings. But she had experience with boys from her time in Lothering, and she had seen enough since coming to Kirkwall, that she knew the way a man looked at a woman when he wanted to fuck.

There was a knock at the door, and she recognized it as Anders. She swallowed, tried to stop shaking, and prayed to the Maker that she would know what to say when she opened it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There will be more than 2 chapters after all. I lied.  
> Thank you to Spaceconveyor for helping me write this.

Hawke yanked open the door and Anders stood on the other side. His casual pose and nonchalant expression made it obvious he hadn't figured out Hawke's actual motive. He probably just thought he would be showing her how to concoct a healing brew.

The pounding in Hawke's heart worsened, knowing that her thoughts from before were probably correct. Anders would take one step inside, realize that she was trying to seduce him, and walk right back out again. Why had she been such an idiot? Why couldn't she seduce someone properly, with the same finesse that she used to kill slavers on Sundermount? With a sigh, she decided there was no going back now. Besides, what was the worst that could happen? Hawke was who she was, and if someone didn't like it, then the Maker could smite them for all she cared.

She realized she had been frozen and staring at him like an idiot during that thought process. She smiled a big smile, and pulled the door open further to invite him in. Anders stepped inside casually, heading into the kitchen where the bottled ale was. He didn't seem to notice the whole setup in the living room. Maybe Hawke could play her cards right and steer the evening away from the awkward beginning, before this whole thing imploded on her.

"Thanks for coming over." Hawke said, following right on Anders’ heels. She moved to stand in the doorway with her hands braced on the doorframe. Her goal was to keep him in the kitchen until she was ready to let him go in to the living room. "There's something I probably should have told you." She admitted, with a rueful smile. 

"Oh?" Anders looked up at her. His face was a mix of curious and concerned. "If your ailment is serious, we could go to the clinic. I have more supplies there." 

For a second, Hawke felt relieved. She could accept that offer and get out of this humiliating situation. However, then she would be at Anders' clinic with no real ailment, an embarrassing explanation, and the damn magic problem that would still be giving her trouble. Another hum of unsummoned electricity jolted through her arms, as if to remind her.

Fuck, she was just going to have to get it over with.

"So I've got this magic buildup problem," she said quickly, "and I visited an old medicine woman because you were not in Kirkwall at the time. She told me there was only one quick cure, and it involved- and that I had to, um…" Hawke trailed off.

Hawke felt a heat in her face, and realized she must be blushing beet red. Oh, shit. She couldn’t do this, and Anders must think she was insane. Maybe showing him would be less awkward than having this conversation. Maker, please don't let him hate me, she thought, as she wordlessly grabbed his hand and led him into the living room that was ridiculously decorated like a Blooming Rose bedroom. 

Anders stopped and his eyebrows shot up. For a moment, Hawke feared he was angry, but then he slowly nodded and looked at her in an intense way that made heat spread through her.

"I hope I didn't breach some kind of etiquette rule." Hawke burst out. She knew she was in danger of blathering, but at this point she didn't care. "Of course, manners aren't my strong point, as my mother told me many times. Our family was always on the run, so it's not like I'm refined in proper customs." She slowly undid the two top buttons on her robe, to distract herself from looking at Anders' face. "If you don't want to do this, you can leave, but I was hoping..." She faltered.


End file.
